What a Difference a Day Made
by Javanyet
Summary: Episode 2 in the 'Standards' series. Prequel to Moonlight Becomes You. Data meets an unusual young woman while attending a seminar at the Academy. For Paul, and 26 years of extraordinary friendship that ended too soon.
1. It was desperation, I know

_What a difference a day made,  
Twenty-four little hours...  
_

"Perhaps if you tell me what is disturbing you, I can… help?"

Leora Eileen O'Reilly wasn't in the mood for a come-on line, especially one so obviously over-phrased. Hastily wiping her eyes she told the stranger, "I'm fine, thanks."

"But you are crying. Is there some way in which I may assist you?"

Now she took a closer look. Unlike the few would-be hotshots who she'd been approached by since her arrival at the academy, this one looked a bit older than entrance level. A little odd, too… deathlike pale, and apparently very uptight in a social sense. He might really be serious.

"Look, no offense, but if you're looking for company you came to the wrong place." It's not that she thought she was all that irresistible, in fact she was well aware that aside from the auburn hair and green eyes she wasn't a second-look magnet on this campus. At 35 she was quite a bit older than the other cadets. They'd let her enter the independent certification program, designed for those with life-skills who likely wouldn't require the full four year treatment. But a few of the freshmen were always on the prowl it seemed, regardless of age or appearance. The pale stranger retreated a step.

"You seem to have misunderstood my intentions." God, he was so _formal_. "I observed you were in distress, and I wondered if I might be of assistance."

Distress was an understatement. Next day was the double final in warp drive history and basic warp technology, and she was buried in warp drive math notes. She understood the theory of warp travel, and knew its history inside and out, but the mathematics left her awash in confusion.

"Sorry if I misread you. I'm kind of battling a deadline here, and my upcoming final in basic warp technology is at odds with my absorption rate."

"It is a challenging course."

"So you're taking it too?"

"I have achieved two advanced certifications in warp technology and warp cell design and construction. I merely observe that to a student it is a daunting task."

"Oh. But if you're an expert can you tell me if a reasonably functioning brain can absorb the finer details in a 24 hours?"

"That would depend upon the focus of your difficulty."

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say. A warp tech genius, or so she hoped, and how to engage his help without giving him the wrong idea? Who was she kidding, she'd screw the nearest engineering cadet for the key to this puzzle.

"May I sit down?" Polite, too. And handsome in his way, despite the pallor, Leo couldn't help but notice. There was something about him, maybe his hesitant manner, that was attractive to someone who'd been dealing with the aggressive arrogance of youth for the past couple of months.

"Sure." Suddenly aware of her manners, she extended her hand. "Leora Eileen O'Reilly, I'm sort of a junior level cadet. Don't let my age fool you, I'm a rank beginner in this place." She noted a warmth in his careful grip that seemed not quite biological in origin.

"My name is Data. I am attending a Federation seminar in first-contact diplomacy for the coming two weeks."

"Data? That's a unique name. Your parents must have had pretty particular hopes for you."

"My 'parents' were Dr. Noonien Soong and Julianna O'Donnell, scientists at the Daystrom Institute. I am an android."

Her eyes widened. "Soong and O'Donnell are your dad and mom? That practically makes you royalty. I knew androids were enlisted in Starfleet but I've never actually met one. If you're not a student, what do you do?"

Data took note of Leo's characterization of his creators. It engaged him. "I am a lieutenant commander in Starfleet, second officer aboard the USS Enterprise D."

Deeply impressed, Leo let out a low whistle. "Wow. I feel like I should ask you for your autograph or something. Enterprise… that name is legend regardless of the alphabet. What does this place possibly have to teach you?"

"As an android my technological, historical, and logistical reasoning is flawless. As an android, however, my interactions with non-synthetic life forms are challenged by my inability to process emotion and a resultant lack of 'intuition'. I am attending this seminar in order to add to my positronic inventory of humanoid responses to various stimuli."

"Kind of like learning to read all over again, huh?" Leora replied with a smile.

"Yes. I believe that is correct. I will learn to 'read', and also to project, the proper cues necessary in first contact situations."

Leo closed her notebook, caught up in the conversation. "But don't you have to have those skills for _all _situations with humanoids?"

Data nodded. "That is correct. But the first-contact scenario is more intensive, more acute, and the skills required must be learned and utilized more quickly than in everyday contact with humanoids. It was decided that such an intensive seminar would be quite useful to me in my typical duties, as well as any unusual assignments that might arise."

"Aha, so you're learning to think on your feet rather than on your circuits." This elicited a confused expression. "I'm sorry, Data, that was a little tacky."

"Tacky? Similar to paint not yet dry?"

She laughed. "No, similar to rude, but more aesthetic than personal."

"Ah. Tacky." He paused for barely a second to store the concept.

"Gawd, I wish I could suck up warp technology like that."

"Unfortunately, chemical processing is slower and less efficient than the positronic sort. Then again, it sometimes allows for non-linear reasoning that eludes strictly digital processing… intuition is something that I will never master."

"It's kind of like sideways reasoning, you skip a few steps, go from point a to point c or d. Kind of a shortcut. But it really isn't impossible to translate, you just have to look at it differently. For instance, suppose you're hiring someone for a job with little supervision. You want to find out if they're a hard worker or a slacker, right? So what do you do?"

Data considered this. "I would ask the applicant for prior work references, and they will tell me about the applicant."

"But suppose this person _is_ a real slacker and a liar, and has someone just _posing _as a former employer?"

"Then I would have no way of knowing the truth."

"Well thinking strictly digitally, you're right. But look at it from a more oblique angle. It's been pretty well established that slackers have a certain attitude toward themselves and life that makes them feel entitled to slide by. Things like, oh, tending to blame their failures on others, or convincing themselves that people have it in for them, or just that they're so cool everyone else should have to take up their slack. So what you do, in addition to having the references, is ask a few open-ended questions about the applicant, like what brought them to where they are today, existentially speaking."

"Tell me about yourself."

"What? Oh, yeah, right, that's the question people always got asked in my time but it works better if it's more focused. Something like, tell me why you left your last job. If you hear a litany of how the boss was a jerk, they didn't appreciate me, blah and blah, or if they've had something like five jobs in two years, you know there might be a problem."

"This would seem to be time consuming."

"Well yeah, when you first get into it. But after awhile you learn which questions to ask, what responses to look for. It gets programmed in. In your case, it would go digital. Or positronic. But it would be there for handy access." He sat silent, considering this.

"You are saying, then, that human non-linear reasoning can routinely become integrated into a positronic network?"

"Why not?"

"It would seem unlikely that such a random method of chemical reasoning could be parsed into predictable bundles of data."

"You know about chaos theory? Fractal physics, strange attractors?"

If an android was capable of registering surprise, it was written all over this one's face. "I am familiar with the theories. They were explored in some detail in earth's late 20th and early 21st century. Central to the theory is that the concept of chaos is a fallacy, that given sufficient analysis and perspective every phenomenon can be seen to have an order of its own."

"Exactly! So the goal of learning _anything_ isn't just processing the data, but identifying its 'order'. Then it's a slam-dunk."

"Slam dunk?" He processed. "Basketball, earth 19th century and beyond. Ah. Extremely easy."

"Trust me, Data, if you took the right approach you could be reading and projecting things like intention and attitude as if they were tech manuals. If sorry little humanoids can do it, for a positronic wonder like you it should be a,"

"Slam dunk?"

"Exactly." Leo realized that her stress had drained away in less than half an hour of conversation. She sat back in her chair and took a deep breath.

"You seem to be less distressed now."

"See? You know that even though you didn't ask me."

"I am able to interpret a finite range of human behavior patterns. Some are more generalized than others."

"Ain't that the truth. So I'm not ready to shoot myself anymore, but I still can't make head or tail of this warp math."

"If you would like, perhaps I can help you identify its 'order'."

Was he making fun of her? Nah, his expression was so earnest. "That'd be great, but what about your seminar schedule?"

"I have no further sessions until 0900 hours tomorrow. When is your exam?"

"0800. It's gonna be a long night…"

"I do not require sleep."

"Damn, how do I get in on that?" She laughed when she saw his puzzlement. "Sorry, just being a smartass."

"Ah. Making humorous comments for their own sake."

"Well that's the kindest definition I've heard lately. So where do we start?"

Data scanned her notebooks for about five seconds before announcing, "You seem to have made an error in interpretation in the beginning stages of your analysis…" and they went on from there.

It didn't take all night. Not even close. In just two hours Leo had absorbed the principle behind the warp mathematics that would be featured in her exam. Various classes and specs of ships would be presented, various regions of space and locations of galaxies represented, and the warp drive calculations would have to be solved for each based on current location and desired destination. This in addition to the history of warp drive technology development, which for her had been a breeze. History had long been her strong suit, along with logistics and administration. After correcting minor errors on four sample problems Data had created for her, he declared the lesson a success.

"I believe you have sufficient grasp of the principles to perform well on your examination. You have a keen mind, all that was required was the proper focus. There is a human tendency to lose focus under progressive stress and pressure, and this is exacerbated by lack of sleep and food."

"Sleep has been a luxury this week, for sure." Leo closed her notebook and texts and dropped her head to the table. After a moment or two, Data leaned a bit closer.

"Leora Eileen? Are you unwell?"

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine, now. And call me Leo, everyone does."

"That is a male name."

"And 'Data' represents what gender?"

"I did not intend to offend you. I meant that 'Leo' is a name typically applied to human males."

Leo shook her head and put a reassuring hand on Data's arm. "Really, it's okay."

"Smartass."

"Well if you're gonna call me names…"

This time he didn't rise to the bait. "An engineer on the Enterprise NCC1701 once said 'fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.'"

"You're a quick study, Data. But then I guess they built you that way."

"In some respects. In others I am considerably slower. But you have not explained, why are you called 'Leo'? Is it derived from your given first name?"

She nodded. "Partly. Also because it's my initials… Leora Eileen O'Reilly. L-E-O, Leo."

"Ah. An acronym."

"Yeah I guess so." There was a moment of silence between them. The library was all but deserted, it was 8pm and everyone had gone to the social club, or their dorm rooms, or to the various game centers scattered around campus. "You really saved me from certain failure. If I flunked warp tech I'd be sunk. I need it to get into my declared program."

"And what is your declared program?"

"Starship administration. It's pretty new, I guess, but I jumped on it when I saw it listed. It's practically the only thing I can learn quick enough to get certified in during my lifetime."

It had taken Data a while to put it together, but he was beginning to understand that Leora Eileen O'Reilly was not a typical cadet for reasons apart from her age.

"Where is your home?" he asked. "You have said some things which indicate you are a stranger to more than the Academy."

She shifted uncomfortably, gathered her stuff, and tried to change the subject. "Look I need to decompress. I'd offer to buy you dinner or a drink, but you don't eat and you don't drink. I'm not sure what to do for you to say thanks for the rescue."

"Your continued company will be sufficient thanks. And your answer to my question of where you have come here from."

"Commander, are you trying to pick me up?" Leo said this with an unmistakably mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Smartass." Internally Data became a bit concerned that he would overuse the reference, but Leo's smile told him otherwise. There was something about this woman that reminded him of Tasha, though he hoped her history was not as painful.

"You got that right." He was waiting expectantly. She had to admit she enjoyed his company. There was something calm and accepting about this "synthetic" life form that seemed more natural to her than almost anyone she'd met since arriving in this utterly alien sphere of existence. It spoke of genuine interest and not the idle curiosity (inevitably a precursor to campus gossip) she'd grown so weary of. And she was very tired of being judged. And it's not as if an android could have a sinister agenda. Giving in to her very nonlinear intuition Leo told Data, "Come on, I know a place where I can eat and you can listen."


	2. Strange pajamas

Leo had been given a small efficiency apartment rather than a dorm room with a roommate, because of her specialized situation. Data sat at a tiny café table while she used a single electric burner (gotten from one of the maintenance guys after much dark negotiation and promises of vintage rock and roll disks) to prepare her dinner. The best she could do in the way of "real" – as opposed to replicated – food was a goose egg omelet, eggs courtesy of Boothby the groundskeeper. Not only had he supplied them free of charge, he understood why she wanted them so badly. The vegetables came from the hydroponic botany lab. Leo found that by currying favor with the various "low level" employees of the Academy she could pretty much find almost anything she wanted. Except for welcome company. But she was beginning to feel like she'd found that this evening, however accidentally.

"It must be difficult for you to find non-replicated food," Data observed. He seemed impressed, if perplexed, by her determination to cook "the old fashioned way".

"Everything here is so well-managed, recycled, and, urgh, replicated. All that has its place but I like the molecules in my food to be as close to their original configuration as possible. I'm funny that way."

Not getting the joke, Data added, "You are 'funny' in several ways."

She dropped the pan in the sink (custom installed for her by a hydro engineer referred to her by Boothby-- she also liked to do her own dishes) and joined Data at the table.

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment?"

"I meant it merely as an observation." He sat quietly watching as she ate, but with an expectant air.

"Can I get you something? Coffee, tea, WD-40?"

He appeared to be accessing some file or other, then nodded in sudden understanding. "Petroleum based lubricants have not been used for several centuries," he explained. "My structural lubrication is a specialized synthetic blend."

Leo had finished eating and couldn't hide her smile. "Data, I think you're going to have an easier time if you only take about half of what I say seriously."

He considered this. "Very well. How will I ascertain which half?"

"Well I tend to be pretty careful to make logical sense when it's important. So if I say something that makes no sense at all, it's probably a joke."

"Smartass."

"Exactly."

He still sat there as if he expected something of interest were just about to happen.

"Really, Data, you look like you're waiting for something."

"You were about to tell me how you came to be here." A moment's pause. "Unless that is too forward a question for our new acquaintance."

"Was I? Oh yeah, I'd forgotten. Sorry. Thanks for reminding me."

"You do not have to thank me. I am unable to forget anything I have seen or heard."

"You could be very handy, or very dangerous, to have around depending on how careless I get." An eyebrow rose. "Never mind. Well, how I got here… how not to take a week or two to explain…"

"Perhaps if you begin with… the week before you came here."

"You're a sensible man, Data. The week before I came here I was living in the Northeast United States. You were right, I'm a stranger to way more than the Academy."

"You are not of this time."

So he could tell. Probably her speech patterns or something. "I last saw my home in October of 2006. I've been here on campus for about two and a half months. With about three weeks between the two while the powers that be decided what to do with me." She didn't say any more right away.

"If this is a difficult subject for you…" Data thought it might be causing her distress.

"No, really, I don't mind. It's just easier to adjust when I can forget there's an adjustment to _make_. I'm all wrapped up in studying and all, so it keeps me from thinking about it."

"You must have encountered someone from this century in your own time. How did it happen?" He remembered hearing about an incident involving a cruiser class ship, the Avalon, caught in a magnetic anomaly not long ago. It had simply disappeared, and reappeared some months later, with mere days having elapsed in the ship's chronometers.

"Well I was enjoying a Jack on my deck, admiring the full moon,"

At that point Data interjected, "Jack? Was he your spouse?"

"No, 'a Jack' means a drink, Jack Daniels."

"Ah. From the 19th century, bourbon whiskey."

"Right, none of this 'synthehol' crap, thanks. Anyway I heard something in the bushes – did I mention I lived in the woods? – and thought time to go in… it was bear season and they tend to wander around… when I saw this guy in strange pajamas come stumbling into the dooryard."

"Strange pajamas?"

"Yeah, you know, like all these recycled plastic-y looking uniforms you guys wear." Data shifted in his chair and surreptitiously glanced down at his uniform. "So I have no neighbors, and didn't see any vehicle, so I called down to the guy, who let me tell you looked like no kind of bear hunter I'd ever seen, and said 'hey dude, if you don't tell me who you are and why you're here in about 3 seconds I'm calling the cops.'"

"You had cops in the woods?"

"I said the woods, not the rainforest. Rural areas have police too, you know. We're not all hillbillies."

Data was concerned. Had he said the wrong thing? He thought his seminar training had been going rather well, actually. "I did not mean offense. Who was the man in the strange pajamas?"

"He wouldn't exactly tell me at first, but he convinced me he wasn't some axe murderer so I let him come up on the deck. I almost _did_ call the cops when I found out what I thought was a cell phone could dissolve me at 30 paces."

"He was armed with a phaser."

"I know that now. Then I though I'd had too much Jack too fast."

"And how did you find out about his phaser?" He couldn't imagine a Starfleet officer taking the Prime Directive so lightly.

"_Long_ story short, he told me his story. He was part of an away team from a ship called the Avalon. They'd gotten sucked into some magnetic cloud and when they came out the other side they were in the place they planned to be but a little, uh, ahead of schedule."

"Three centuries. He told you this before contacting his ship?"

"Yeah. The poor guy was really lost in the purest sense of the word, you know? I gave him a drink… big mistake. Who knew you guys don't have real booze? I swapped it for herbal tea before he got really hammered. Anyway he got real loose real fast and told me all about it, the ship, the magnetic anomaly, the time jump. The reason he had no vehicle… and that was the best news I'd heard in years!"

"Transporter technology was something you had been anticipating?" He couldn't fathom this. Her difficulty with warp drive mathematic bespoke a certain lack of hard technology mindset.

"Well not specifically, but I always hated _long_ trips just to get there you know, I always said 'I don't wanna _go_ there, I wanna _be_ there', so finding out that someone invented instant travel really got me interested."

Data shook his head in consternation. "The crewman violated a serious regulation when he revealed his origins to you."

"Oh god, _please_ don't say the P.D. word – Prime Directive? – or I'll get such a headache. For weeks every meeting, every interview, Prime Directive this, and Prime Directive that…"

"It is essential that we not contaminate other cultures with knowledge out of sequence with their natural development."

"I know, I really do, I even agree it's a good idea. But this poor guy, Lt. Lewis I think was his name, they were gonna drum him right out, court martial or whatever, and I had to raise six kinds of hell to keep it from happening."

"Do you mean six levels of hell? As outlined by Dante?"

"Whatever works, I guess. Anyway I convinced them it wasn't his fault and he just got a stern talking-to or something. Hey, _he_ didn't know there was 100 proof in that glass! And it wasn't really his fault that I got beamed back up with him, either."

Now both of Data's eyebrows rose. "You were transported back with the away team?"

"Well he had to go back, of course. He'd been on a 2-hour reconaissance, and was supposed to meet the three other members of the away team where they'd landed. But he didn't quite trust himself in the woods in the dark, smart guy to notice, so I went with him. He told me to hang back in the trees until they left. I mean, I'd convinced him that even with what I saw that I was no kind of science engineer and there was no way I'd be marketing a phaser anytime soon, so he decided to let me be. Where I live some people are always talking about the mother ship and all that so it would've blended right in anyway."

Data was caught up in Leo's story, and what hadn't yet occurred to him was the rather remarkable fact that Leo had simply accepted the story of the Avalon crew member's sudden appearance as fact, to the point of taking him back to the beam-up site. For now he simply asked, "But if you were hidden in the trees, how were you caught in the transporter beam?"

"Well… that was kind of my idea. When I heard them call their ship, and heard that little sparkly whine, I thought damn wouldn't I _love_ to see what he's talking about! So I just sort of ran out and grabbed onto him before they went up."

Finally the singular nature of the events caught up with Data. "That is most unusual. A man in strange pajamas wandered out of the woods, became intoxicated, and told you a story about his starship and his temporal displacement via a magnetic anomaly, and you accepted every word as fact. That is most unusual."

"Well why not? I'd had my sense of reality bent so far out of shape lately, why _not_ believe in time-jumping scientists from space? What could I possibly have to lose?" There was a bleakness behind her words that Data didn't fail to process, but he didn't inquire further. "Besides, there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio..." She noticed the approximation of a smile of recognition. "You like Shakespeare?"

Data resisted the urge to recite Hamlet's entire speech to Horatio, and merely said "Very much. I have performed in several of his plays as part of our theatrical group aboard the Enterprise. Please, continue."

"So there I was on the Avalon and the captain was going mental over what to do about it. His chief medical officer said they could do something in my brain to make me forget. I said uh-uh, no way anyone was going to rearrange my brain. It is all I have between me and, well, whatever. They couldn't guarantee that there wouldn't be some 'overlap' of a few cells this way or that. Some other specific though 'non-essential' -- nice of them to make that judgment -- memories might be erased. So I said hell no. Their ship's counselor went all over it with me, how if I stayed how hard it would be, I wouldn't just be leaving my home and friends but reality as I knew it. And like I said, my reality was a little shaky at the time anyway. The bottom line was that what I had, well it wasn't worth giving up some of the most important things I might not remember if they erased the wrong bits. And after all that had happened I was ready for a change anyway." She shook her head and smiled ruefully. "Careful what you wish for, huh?"

Data had taken in her story, and his knowledge of humans made him mindful of what a difficult transition this friendly young woman had only begun to make.

"Do you not miss your friends? Your life in the 21st century?"

Leo looked a little haunted then, a little sad. "Sometimes. Not much I guess. Life is where you find it, right? Well there is one, Paul, my best friend, 20 years' worth. He knew me, he _knew_ me to the bone, most of my life, good bad and ugly. I knew him the same way. No mysteries, just knowledge. He told me what I needed to know, instead of what I wanted to hear. He was a part of every rite of passage and major decision of my life. He was like an extra part of my brain. Okay, my soul."

"You must miss him a great deal now."

Leo fought back the churn in her gut that threatened to leak out of her eyes. "Oh, I got a head start on that before I left. He died in mid-September."

"I am sorry." There was a sincerity in his voice that transcended positronics, and it touched her. "What happened?"

"Cancer happened. My own denial happened. See, some people are supposed to be there forever, because they've _been_ there forever. So losing them is just not an option. Until you do. So much of me felt gone when they buried him, I figured whatever got left behind in the 21st century wouldn't miss me much. And of course the great cosmic joke is that one of the first things I learned when I got here was that all those nasty medical things that had our backs to the wall back then don't even exist anymore. If only Lt. Lewis had arrived a couple months before… you'd be sitting here talking to a 58-year old English Lit professor instead of a struggling administration candidate."

"I am satisfied with the existing interaction." Data had gleaned enough to finish her story for her. "Since you would have to be 're-educated' to become assimilated into this century, you were assigned to a Starfleet facility for the purpose. There are hundreds such places throughout the Federation."

"I wanted to stay on Earth. I was ready for a change, like I said, but I realized I needed something vaguely familiar to anchor myself to. And so I convinced the captain of the Avalon to sponsor me for admission to the new program here at the Academy. It's the kind of stuff I did in my time, administration and ops, logistics and all that. Believe me, from what I've seen there isn't much difference between a CEO and a starship captain. Both in charge of the big stuff, both out hopeless with the little stuff."

"You saw a way to be productive in your new world. That was very forward-thinking."

She laughed. "That was very _desperate_. It's all I know how to do. I'm no dummy," and Data smiled internally, "but if I have to learn a whole new universe I'd better stick to something I know how to do to make a living. So here I am. I took the entrance exam and everything, and they graded it on a massive 'prehistoric humanoid' curve, and figured I might turn into something useful to the 24th century. But hell, if I flunk out I can always go to work for Boothby. Except I tend to kill plants. I mow a mean lawn though."

"I find it… fascinating that you seem to be making a transition into an entirely new existence with little or no support. Have you made social attachments?"

"You mean friends? I don't know… classmates yeah, some people I study with once in a while, but I keep to myself a lot. It gets tiresome being the campus curiosity. Hundreds of cadets from species I'd never imagined, but I seem to be the one and only true oddity here."

"My transition from the Daystrom Institute to the Academy, and from here to my current posting was made easier by forming social attachments with others."

"I guess I've never been really good at that. I've always enjoyed my own company so much I wound up preferring it, which means my social skills sort of got rusty. When people have tried to get into my own little world, they can find it hard to get my attention."

"I did not seem to have that difficulty." His innate curiosity was interested in knowing why.

"I guess you caught me at a weak moment." Feeling that was unfair, she added, "And it's because when you ask me about who I am it's because you want to know me, and everyone else just wants to know _about_ me. I feel very comfortable with you Data, and that's been rare for me lately."

That look of recognition returned. "I, too, find that those I encounter seem to fall into those two categories. It is sometimes difficult to learn which is which, especially when I cannot access intuition. And my inability to feel emotions can make others reticent to engage my acquaintance. I am lucky to count some particular friends among those I know."

"I guess I just don't know where to start."

"You may start with me, if that would be acceptable."

"With you?"

"I would be glad to add you to my set of friends. I find your company pleasant and diverting, you are intelligent and curious, and like me your nature and origins set you apart from your peers and make forming attachments problematic. We both must expend effort to find a commonality with those around us. I believe ours could be a lasting and worthwhile attachment."

Despite the precise language, Leo was very taken with his offer. "I have to warn you, Data, if you insist on opening this door and I decide to come in, you'll find it very hard to be rid of me if you change your mind."

"Why would I change my mind? I have found nothing but enjoyment in your company so far."

A cynical shake of her head answered him. "Ah, the two words we live and die by, 'so far'."

"It is all we can be sure of."

An android, a collection of circuits and positronic programming, and he understood her thoughts better than almost anyone she'd known. "Truer words were never spoken. Data you're absolutely the first person I've met here who speaks to me as me, as if you already understood. I'm so frustrated by the agendas of others. It's so hard to just deal with things and people as they are, when they always have something else going on under the surface."

"I cannot have an 'agenda'. I can only be as I am, and my positronic neural net can only process things as they appear to be."

Suddenly Leo was overcome with the urge to yawn. And she did, extravagantly.

"Has our conversation become boring?" Data wanted to know.

"No, absolutely not. I'm becoming unconscious, is all." Data accessed his internal chronometer.

"It is 0530 hours, and your examination is at 0800 hours. Why did you not tell me you need to sleep?"

Leo reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Because if I did that, you would've left. And I wanted you to stay. I've been struggling in an emotional desert, Data, and you're my magic oasis."

"But I am not a source of human emotion."

"Call it whatever you want. I needed something to provide me with some personal resonance, to remind me I don't exist in a glass ball in the zoo, and there you were. I'll be fine for the exam, and I'll crash afterward."

"I must leave you to review your notes, then. Would it be acceptable for me to call on you later in the day after my sessions, to inquire regarding your impression of your performance?"

"It would be completely _un_acceptable for you not to."

She saw him to the door. "Would you mind if I gave you a hug? It's okay if you say no. I just feel like I've had the first real human contact since I left home, and I'd like to finish it right."

Data was taken aback. She'd referred to their extended evening as "human" contact. But he understood this as a gesture of friendship, and that is what he had proposed, and wanted to pursue. "I do not mind, Leo." So she reached around his neck, and even kissed his cheek, and was surprised at the lack of awkwardness as he returned her embrace.

"I enjoyed our evening," he told her. "I am glad I 'got your attention'."

"Sometimes you gotta sneak up on me for it to work"

Data wasn't sure he understood that comment as she closed the door behind him, but decided it wasn't "smartass", and that they could pursue the question further at a later time.


	3. Communing with Boothby

After completing her exam with a reasonable expectation of passing (thank you, Data!) Leo went off in search of Boothby. There were acres of grounds to cover, but she seemed to remember he'd been working on the tulip beds earlier in the week, setting the bulbs now that would bloom next spring. That day he'd begun to tell her tales of the days in "ancient" Europe when tulips were held more valuable than gold and led to more intrigues, murders, and sordid adventures than that once-rare metal; he'd been delighted to learn she'd read several books on the subject on her own. It's one of the things that forged a quick friendship between them, a love for history. The other was a disdain for discarding the past in favor of the future. "New for new's sake is ego-feeding foolishness," he'd grumped one day, and she had to agree. Leo could sense one of Boothby's great sources of pleasure was when he was able to help her sustain her "old ways". It was a phrase they used frequently, always with a sardonic edge. In fact he'd adopted the nickname "Ollie" for her, a play on the initials O.L., for Old Lady, as he'd observed when he first discovered the "distance" she'd traveled: "That makes you the oldest lady on campus."

She'd become very fond of the curmudgeonly groundskeeper – she'd _never_ refer to him as a mere "gardener" – and when she wasn't studying or feebly attempting to socialize with cadets for whom she was more entertainment than companion she sought his company as he worked. He'd offered her a trowel one day and said, "You might as well make yourself useful if you're going to distract me," but she'd told him then "I have such a black thumb that plants keel over if I get within ten feet of them."

"Nonsense. You simply haven't been instructed properly." And he'd stuck the trowel in her hand and shown her how to set the marigolds along the edge of the vegetable beds to keep the insects away.

"But there aren't any predatory insects here, isn't that one of those 'improvements' I keep hearing about?"

"That's no reason to stop doing it," he insisted.

"Boothby, isn't that just 'old for old's sake'?"

He'd regarded her with a narrow eye, and retorted with the hint of a smile, "I'll bet you got into all sorts of trouble back in the 21st century. Are you sure you didn't _have_ to get out?" She made a face. "Besides," he added with a wave of his hand, "see how lovely the colors are." He was right, the rich golds contrasted with the rows of dark earth and plants, and made a beautiful border against the surrounding turf. Truthfully, Boothby's handiwork provided the only real color, and the only truly naturally growing things, among dozens of acres of scientifically-perfect green lawns and botanically replicated maples and oaks, even the largest of them no more than a dozen years old because they were replaced regularly. After hours spent in architecturally-perfected artificial environments, smooth glass and steel buildings with self-renewing breathable atmospheres, Leo would run to the nearest patch of "Boothby-World" she could find, which is how they met in the first place. The friendship between Boothby (a figure of almost mythical stature among Academy cadets and even faculty and staff) and the Oldest Lady on Campus was of course a source of much discussion and conjecture. Some talk even held that Leo was one of Boothby's ancestors, something like a great-great-great-great grandmother. Leo brushed off the questions and ignored the rumors, for the simple pleasure of driving the gossips crazy. That, at least, was a long-held pastime she could still enjoy in her new life.

Now, her head swimming with fatigue but reconciled with warp mathematics, Leo tracked Boothby down in Tulip Bed #7.

"Hey, Green Man, I'm still alive." She'd named _him_ after the pagan god of planting and spring. He sat back in the dirt between his basket of bulbs and his caddy of tools.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think I did okay, I know for certain I had to have passed. I wouldn't have if karma hadn't dropped that android in my lap yesterday in the library."

"An android helped you study?" Boothby couldn't think of a one on campus that could help with warp mathematics. They were strictly administrative and general staff, programmed for their particular functions.

Leo dropped down beside Boothby and began handing him bulbs to plant. "Yeah, I'd never actually met one before, not to talk to really. He's a Starfleet officer here for the First Contact Diplomacy seminar."

"Well what's his name? Or did you just plug him into your computer and copy his notes?" He dug and set bulbs as he talked, not looking up, just holding a hand out for the next bulb.

"Ha, ha. He only has one name, Data. He's second officer on the Enterprise, can you believe it? The Enterprise blank through D has been in my texts since I got here, and its second officer had me converting word problems to warp calculations in two hours! Who'da thunk?"

Boothby was sitting back again, wiping the dirt from his hands and looking very interested. "Well it's not as if you were brain damaged on the way here… Commander Data of the Enterprise D, eh?" His smile of recognition piqued Leo's curiosity.

"You know him? How? He didn't come through the Academy did he?"

"Of course he did. You don't think they just built him and stuck him on the Federation flagship without some orientation, do you? Of course it was mostly interpersonal dynamics they were interested in developing, but the Academy is the perfect place for that." He paused for a moment, then asked her incredulously, "You don't know who he is, do you?"

"I do now, we spent all night talking."

"I mean, you've never _heard_ of him? The only android serving in Starfleet, more commendations than uniform space to display them?"

She didn't like feeling like a dork. "Gimme a break, will you, I've only been here a couple months! Everything I know about the Enterprise came from texts on basic Federation history, first contact with the Klingons, all that. I've barely learned the names of the captains, I didn't exactly have time to memorize a hundred years' worth of crew rosters."

"Well next time you're in the library access some tactical history from the past decade. You'll find a great deal of interesting details about your accidental tutor."

"Well I can just ask him tonight."

"You'll see him again tonight?"

"Yeah he wants to find out how I did on the exam. Evaluation stats should be out by 3 o'clock." They passed, dug, and planted in silence for a while, then Leo said, "Boothby, can I tell you something?"

He smiled warmly as he dug and planted. "When have you not?"

"Well about Data, I told you we spent all night talking. And I mean all night, until 0530, after we finished with the tutoring I invited him back to my place," she saw Boothby's eyebrows raise comically, "Don't start! It's just that I hadn't really had anybody to talk _with_, besides you of course, in the longest time." Boothby was aware of her tendency to keep to herself even "before". "I mean, people talk _to_ me here, they quiz me up down and sideways because I'm not only new I'm, you know, _new_, and it's not that they're all boring or mean – they've helped me out plenty actually – there's just been nobody I really felt I could _connect_ with beyond superficial stuff. But in the first ten minutes after Data showed up, he just walked up to me cold and offered to help, I just felt _easy_, comfortable, like here was someone more, well not like me exactly, but potentially in synch, or something." Boothby didn't respond, just reached out for another bulb she'd been holding onto as she talked. "Fine, I guess I'm just getting a little sleep-dep crazy or something." After planting the bulb she'd finally handed over, Boothby sat back on his heels and looked her in the eye.

"He spoke to who you are, you mean. It's all he's able to do, Leo. It's a sort of gift all androids have as a birthright, the ability to respond to things and people exactly as they appear to be. The only expectations they have come from empirical experience. What you show is what they get."

"That's pretty much what he told me. But it wasn't like talking to an interactive machine, Boothby, he wanted to _know_ me. Me, as in who I am, like you said, not just where I've been or how I got here or what I'm gonna do, but how those things make me who I am. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, I was just so desperate for intelligent, _natural_ company I'm slapping all sorts of extra meaning on it. He helped me out and we got acquainted, a little anyway." She saw the look on Boothby's face, a sort of knowing smile. "You know him, I mean personally, don't you?"

"When Data was here at the Academy he came to me from time to time pretty much like you do, looking for some respite from confusion. And he's as far from an 'interactive machine' as this oak here is from that maple over there," he pointed from the engineered oak to the one and only natural tree on campus, still on the small side, planted as a sapling by Boothby himself.

"What on earth could there be here to confuse him?"

"Same things that confuse you. People. How to fit in. Whether or how to _try_ to fit in, or just accept as a given you'll always be an outsider and take it from there."

Aha. "So what did you tell him?" Leo tried not to sound too eager.

Boothby humphed. "What have I told _you_?"

"Not a whole hell of a lot, if you wanna know."

"There you go."

The bulb basket was empty now. "It's not fair to mess with me when I haven't slept for almost thirty hours."

Boothby put his tools back in the caddy and wiped his hands on his pants before rising and pulling Leo to her feet. "Ollie, if all it took for you to get by was for you to memorize instructions, you wouldn't be out here planting tulips. All people like you and Data need is someone to think out loud at, who won't screw you up with a lot of stupid questions and advice that if it was any good at all would only work for _them_."

"But you've given me advice, you have to have given Data advice, and we can't be the only two who've dug in the dirt with the Academy Guru," she stuck the last bit in as a not-so-subtle dig.

"Everything I've ever told you, or him, or the others – and there have only been a few I'd waste my time on – comes down to three words… think it over."

"Think _what_ over?" They were walking along the path back to the student commons. Boothby rolled his eyes in exaggerated patience and patted Leo on the shoulder.

"You _do_ need to sleep. I meant that the best I – and by the way don't ever call me a 'guru' again or you've planted your last tulip on this campus – can do for you is to listen, maybe point out where I think you might me headed wrong, and have you _think it over_. Okay, this is where we part company." Leo was about to get confused again until she realized that he was headed off to the groundskeeping shed. Before he did he inquired, "Tell me something, Leo, did Data suggest that you continue your acquaintance?"

"He did, actually. How did you know?"

That knowing smile returned. "Just a hunch. Do yourself a favor and take him up on it. As friends go, you could do a whole lot worse. Now get some sleep before you wander another several centuries out of your way."

Well if that was the only real advice he had to offer, it sounded pretty good right now. Leo dragged back to her quarters and fell face down on the bed, asleep before impact.


	4. Echoes and resonance

After the second visual run-through of the interactive negotiation simulator, Data raised an issue with his seminar teammates.

"I believe I have discovered a useful piece of information."

The simulation involved a basic negotiation for right-of-way across land held on an Earth colony. The negotiator presented the landowner with a very reasonable request, that the Federation be permitted access to a narrow neck of an used portion of land to access a water source for agricultural research purposes. The ¼ mile roadway would be built, maintained, and policed by Federation personnel, and 36 hours' notice would be provided – refusal and rescheduling permitted – prior to each use of the right of way. The landowner in the simulation, one Argan Temulian, refused even to consider discussion. The simulation had been discussed in the five classroom sub-groups from every conceivable angle. Remuneration had been discussed, engagement of Temulian's own workers (he operated an independent hydroponic farm) was proposed. The granting of several of the Federation's adjacent agri-acres for Temulian's own cultivation had been proposed. In the end, Temulian was asked flat-out what it would take to engage even his willingness to discuss the matter. The interactive response was always the same: "I will not engage in negotiations."

Data's team, comprised of himself along with an Andorian male, a Klingon female (who was having particular difficulties), and an Earth human female, were frustrated by their lack of success and unconvinced that Data would have gleaned useful information where they had not. What would a machine have to offer to facilitate exchange between true life forms? However, the simulation time was running out and nobody else had any suggestions.

"All right, Commander, what insight can you provide that all of us cannot?"

"Perhaps," he suggested, "we should approach the problem from a more oblique angle?" Blank stares greeted him. "Mr. Temulian made a comment in response to the negotiator's insistence that the Federation could be trusted to fulfill their contract. He stated that he was aware of this, because on his homeworld of Tanarsis his father had had dealings with the Federation in matters of business."

Ensign Whitney, a diplomatic attaché from the USS Christopher, responded, "What can that have to do with anything?"

"Tanarsis is populated by a strictly homogenous and patriarchal society. As we see in the simulation, the Federation negotiator is female. Thus we may assume that, based on his origins and upbringing and regardless of the beneficial aspects of a contract with the Federation, Mr. Temulian will not consider negotiations simply because the Federation representative is female. I suggest we consider replacing the negotiator with a male alternative, and gauge his response."

The Klingon female bristled at the suggestion. "The Tanarsian's attitude is outdated and dishonorable."

"Nonetheless," Data responded mildly (knowing any show of even intellectual aggression would trigger an opposite and unequal response), "the perspective of the negotiatons must be based upon the position of the other. Anything else guarantees failure."

The other three team members looked at each other, then at Data. "I think we all knew about Tanarsis and its social structure," the Andorian replied a bit defensively, then addressed the others, "Well it's not as if we have any other ideas. " The Klingon entered the agreed-upon proposal into the simulator, and pressed Process . In seconds the image of Temulian appeared on the viewscreen, smiling and agreeable. "The Federation offer appears quite acceptable, I think we can do business," he said. Data's teammates could hardly comprehend that a synthetic life form had been better able to interpret human behavior. Confronted by the consternation of his teammates, Data told them somewhat glibly, "It seems we simply needed a 'sideways' approach."

When their solution was presented to the session facilitator, it turned out to have been the only success in the room.

"So you see," the facilitator announced to the class, "in negotiations, everything counts. If you concentrate _only_ on the issue at hand, you may find yourself returning empty handed."

It seemed Leo had repaid Data's assistance without being aware of it. He would certainly tell her when he saw her this evening.

Leo was already halfway awake when her door buzzer sounded. "Leo," she heard the mellow voice through the intercom, "It is Data. Are you there?"

"Computer, chronometer reading please."

"The earth Pacific region time is 1800 hours."

She must have slept through the alarm she requested. She jumped off the bed and asked, "Computer, what is my evaluation score for the warp history and technology examination?"

"History, 9.7 out of 10 possible; mathematics 8.2 out of 12 possible." Holy shit, she'd passed. The door buzzer repeated.

"Leo? Are you there? It is Data."

"Come on in, Data, it's not locked," Leo called out as she jerked a brush through her hair and made for the door. The door had barely slid shut behind Data when she literally jumped into his arms shouting "I _passed_, you positronic savior!" Data caught her by reflex and she kissed him smack on the very surprised lips. He staggered back a step, still holding onto her, and she disengaged from him quickly and smoothed his uniform shirt with a sheepish smile at his stunned expression.

"I'm a little excited… I just got my scores. 9.7 of 10 in history, _and_…" she did a little pirouette in front of the fairly overwhelmed android, "_8.2_ out of 12 in mathematics! Which means I passed, which means I get to go on to the core studies in my program!" Unable to help herself, she gave him another enthusiastic hug and kiss, then stepped back. "Sorry… I hope you don't mind, I'm just so _grateful_, I'd never have managed it without you." He looked as if he were bracing himself for another attack. "Jeez, now I've got you all nervous."

Data recovered himself and assured her, "You have not made me 'nervous'. I was merely concerned for my balance; my internal gyroscopic systems did not respond quickly enough. And I do not 'mind' your physical show of gratitude. I am pleased that you did well on your examination, and that I was able to assist you."

She just couldn't stop smiling, and it became contagious. Data's normally neutral expression warmed a little with what Leo could see was his approximation of a smile. It was rather nice, actually, especially because she knew it was in response to her hysterical joy at achieving what she wanted so desperately.

"You are very happy," he observed unnecessarily. "It is an agreeable contrast to your mood when we first met."

"I'll say it is." She noticed Data's smile had faltered, and he appeared contemplative. "What's wrong? Hey, no need to keep standing around," she flopped on the sofa and indicated he should do the same. Data, of course, sat down as someone who does so as a learned social behavior.

"Nothing is 'wrong', " he was having difficulty phrasing what was on his mind. "It is just that I, too, had a successful day. But unlike you, I am unable to experience it with such… enthusiasm."

"You experience it whatever way works for you, and the hell with anyone who says otherwise."

He appeared satisfied, if still a little caught in his thoughts. The tentative smile returned, though. "You are much like one of my friends. She, too, often told me that I should not gauge my responses by comparing them with those of others."

"Sounds like my kind of person. And the kind _you_ need to keep around."

The smile faded. "Yes. She was 'my kind of person' as well. Although I cannot experience emotion as you might understand it, from time to time her absence is quite apparent."

"'Was'? Did she go away?" Whatever the 'non-emotional' android approximation of sadness was, it was all over Data's face.

"She was killed in the line of duty some time ago, on an away team mission. While dangerous missions are not uncommon, some deaths seem more significant. I am not sure I am expressing it clearly. Other crew members have died during my service, and while I found their loss regrettable it did not linger for a long period after their deaths. From time to time the place that Tasha occupied in my everyday existence still echoes with her absence."

Struck by his casual poeticism, Leo moved closer and put her hand on his arm. "You miss her, Data. What you just said is exactly what I still feel about losing Paul. My life echoes with his absence, as yours does with Tasha's. I suppose it may grow more subtle with time, but my guess is it never goes away because the effect someone you care about has on you never goes away. You make a new discovery, or read a certain passage, or hear some music you know they'd have liked, and the first thing you think about is 'I have to share this', as if they never went away, and not having that new sharing is worse than any picture or story that reminds you of the past. It's the present you miss, and the future. And it hurts like hell, and I don't care what you call it or how you interpret it. You say you have no feelings because they don't manifest like ours, because your 'feedback loop' between stimulus and response doesn't involve anything hormonal or chemical. Well I say you're wrong; knowledge and people and events trigger a reaction in you, loss, and interest, and friendship, you just process them differently. That doesn't make them less real and it sure doesn't make them nonexistent." She leaned in and hugged him for the pain that he refused to define as pain, because she knew the distinction was false. It had to be, because he'd captured her own pain so vividly. He didn't stiffen or retreat from her, but returned her embrace as he had when she'd said goodbye that morning, with warmth.

"Thank you, Leo. Even if I do not fully understand what you have said, thank you for saying it."

Leo who felt a little awkward. She wasn't given to extravagant displays of "HDM", or "heavy-deep-and-meaningful", in fact her friends from her past life used to tease her for seeming aloof. She didn't cry at sad movies, or fall in love with every man she met. She certainly didn't wear her heart on her sleeve, as the saying went. What she felt she felt deeply, but it wasn't for display and it wasn't often shared. Something about this newcomer in her life got past the wall, though. And her earlier warning to Data regarding her being hard to get rid of suddenly seemed more than ironic. She already was sensing that she'd never be able to "get rid of" Data, even if she wanted to, and even if he wanted her to.

After a moment they separated, and Leo needed to lighten the mood. "So you haven't told me about your successful day. Give it up." She was gratified to see the return of what she'd later come to characterize as the "Mona Data Smile", and this time it was even accompanied by a dash of cockiness.

"My negotiation team was the only one of five session sub-groups to achieve a successful agreement in simulation. It was not until I suggested employing 'sideways reasoning', and described what conclusions might be arrived at, that progress was made." He filled her in on the details of the simulation, the two unsuccessful counter-offers, and the final discovery arrived at via the method she had suggested the previous evening.

"Congratulations! You've learned to adapt intuition to your own parameters!" She saw Data was looking at her a little strangely, a little closely, as if making up his mind about something. After a second or so he placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, and leaned in to give her a kiss. This time she noticed the warmth and softness of his mouth, which she'd somehow expected to be rather like delicate plastic but hadn't really noticed at all when she's grabbed him the first two times. It was her turn to be puzzled as he explained, "I am grateful for your assistance. And I am glad you wish to continue our acquaintance as a friendship."

Suddenly she remembered her conversation with Boothby, and gave Data a playful shove. "Hey, you never told me you were famous!" she accused.

"Famous? I do not understand."

"Well when I was planting with Boothby today, he told me a few things about you. Like I'm some sort of Philistine for not having heard of you."

He cocked his head, birdlike. He seemed to do that when he was dealing with an unexpected situation. "My curriculum vitae is a matter of public record. Did Mr. Boothby not tell you this?"

"'Mr.' Boothby told me you'd hung out with him during your time at the Academy just like I do now, and pretty much for the same reasons."

"I found talking to him to be helpful in processing the difficulties I was having developing social skills with non-synthetic life forms. He is very logical in his outlook, and very accepting of those different from himself."

"And _very_ impatient with those who aren't. You're beginning to scare me, Data."

He became concerned. "I do not wish to frighten you, Leo. What have I done that is 'scary'?"

Laughing, Leo shook her head and patted his arm. "No, Data, I guess I mean it's really weird to meet someone so suddenly who I just seem to _resonate _with. I thought it would take forever in this new, perfectly perfect world. It's a little surprising, is all. 'Scary' is an overstatement. It's unusual."

"I agree. It is rare for me to make a social connection so rapidly and on several different planes of experience and outlook simultaneously."

They sat in silence for a few moments, not out of things to say so much as comfortably quiet between thoughts. Finally Data suggested, "Do you wish to celebrate our respective successes? There is a club on the south campus where there is music and dancing."

Leo sat back, eyebrows raised. "You like music and dancing?"

He looked a bit self-conscious. "Our ship's medical officer helped me learn several dances in preparation for a crew mate's wedding in which I gave the bride away. I am afraid that in social situations my dancing ability is limited to the genre known as 'big band' and 'standards'."

"Well I'll be damned. An android with style. I grew up with rock'n'roll, and love the blues and classical, but Glenn Miller and the Dorseys really get my party on too."

"'Get my party on'… I am afraid I do not have a reference for that colloquial expression."

"Gimme a few minutes to get into some clothes that I haven't slept in, and I'll demonstrate when we get there." Just before disappearing into the bedroom, she turned and regarded Data with a delighted smile.

"I think Boothby's right about you. As friends go, I could do a whole lot worse."

Data responded to her smile with his own version, of which Leo was already growing inordinately fond. "I believe the same is true for myself as well."


	5. Arthur Murray in the Neutral Zone

When they arrived at the club after a leisurely, mostly-quiet walk Leo and Data found it fairly well populated with several dozen cadets who were recovering from their days' exams.

"See any of your fellow seminar-goers, Data?" Leo asked as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. The Neutral Zone bar was just that, a place where Academy cadets at all levels could get together, relax, challenge each other to a boggling variety of simulations and games in the club's several hologame rooms, and generally decompress from the rigors of the Academy. Tonight most of them seemed to be gathered at the various bars and tables either celebrating their exam results or commiserating over them. Without exception they bitched and moaned, just like in Leo's past life, about instructors and the exams themselves.

"I do not believe the seminar attendees are permitted to attend this establishment," Data told her. "There is a suite of rooms reserved as a lounge and socializing space for us."

"Well not for _us_," she corrected him as she looked toward the bar. "What are you drinking?" Leo caught herself just before Data could reply. "Sorry. I keep forgetting you're an android." Data greeted her 'apology' with a pleased expression.

"I believe that is the 'nicest thing anyone has said to me today'." He made it obvious he was quoting a popular colloquial expression for her amusement.

"Well the day ain't over yet. Stay right here, I'll be right back." Data stood still as stone. She had to remember to frame her language a little more carefully, she thought as she wove her way through the crowd. He took things so literally. When she made it to the bar she beckoned one of the android bartenders she knew as Jack. Boothby had introduced them. Jack was the secret keeper of Boothby's stash of rare vintage booze… "the real thing, mind you, none of that stomach-turning synthehol"… and had been instructed to serve it to Leo (and a select number of others) whenever she requested. Since synthehol could be made to imitate any drink at all and the aroma was identical, nobody was the wiser as long as Leo guarded her glass with her life. Which she did.

Now she leaned across the bar and smiled at the platinum-haired male as he greeted her, "Welcome, Leo. May I inquire after your examination results?"

"Passed, and passed! And I am celebrating tonight with a friend… he's not drinking but I am."

Jack accessed his Boston bartender voice: "What'll it be sweethaht?"

"Make it a Jack, Jack. The good stuff. Rocks and a twist."

"Like we did last summah," he shot back as he reached into a locked cubbyhole and pulled out a generic looking bottle, pouring a generous measure over ice and dropping in a twist of lemon peel. "Consume it in good health," he added in his regular voice as he handed it to her, "and accept my congratulations on your successful examination."

When she'd returned to where she left Data he was still standing as if nailed to the spot, but engaged in conversation with one of her warp tech classmates. Jalen Kindrick, a human, came to the Academy from the Mars colony and was set to concentrate in stellar cartography. Of all the cadets Leo had met she was probably the least intrusive, having exhausted a rather limited repertoire of the predictable questions early in their acquaintance and shifting rapidly to the issue of surviving the class they took together. Their age difference and Jalen's predilection for hanging out in crowded clubs in her down time was something of a barrier to forming a real social connection. At the end of the day Leo wanted nothing more than to take refuge in her quarters away from the seemingly endless masses of curious people (though she admitted that exaggeration was a function of her weary annoyance) who seemed to surround her every day. Jalen had once observed drily, "You'd think on a campus of 150 distinct species from a dozen star systems one single human time jumper wouldn't attract much attention." Leo liked her; though only 22 years old she was smart and had a nice practical outlook on things. Jalen was chatting amiably with Data as Leo returned from the bar.

"Jalen! How did you do today?" Jalen _breathed_ high level mathematics, though Leo had given her some help with her history studies.

"7.2 of 10, and 12 of 12. Just squeaked by on the history," she wrapped a friendly arm around Leo's shoulder and declared to Data, "But I wouldn't have squeaked at all if Ollie here hadn't worked me to the bone."

"Ollie?" Data cocked his head and looked at Leo.

"Nickname Boothby gave me. Ollie, O.L., Old Lady. Born in the 20th century. Get it?"

"Ah. Smartass."

Jalen cracked up. "An android with a sense of humor? I love it! Most of these staff guys on campus are real stiffs."

"I believe one may be influenced by the company one keeps," Data deadpanned, and Leo swore he was about to wink. He didn't. He didn't have to, really.

Jalen swung around on Leo with an accusatory glare, "And why didn't you tell me you were consorting with celebrities? Commander Data of the USS Enterprise D is tutoring you, and you don't breathe a word? Now I know why you turned me down."

Leo felt a little caught out as Data looked at her questioningly. "Jalen, I only met Data yesterday. And I figured you had your hands full with warp history _and_ stellar exploration history. Besides," she added, supremely sheepish, "I didn't know who he was."

Jalen shook her head, "Hopeless, she is hopeless. It's like her being back where she came from and not hearing of Elvis or something."

"Well there is no need to get all shook up," Data advised, still expressionless.

Leo threw back her head, and half her drink, and widened her eyes in horror. "Oh, brother, who taught you _that_?"

Data fashioned a proud near-smirk, "My crew mates on the Enterprise have schooled me in the history, structure, and application of humor."

"That's not humor, Data..." she muttered as Jalen laughed loudly again.

"My apologies, Leo. I am aware that the genre of puns is not to everyone's liking."

"Well my taste runs more to,"

"Smartass." he finished for her.

The music had become a bit louder as more cadets poured into the bar. "Hey Data, do you dance?" Jalen asked as she took his arm.

Data looked at Leo and demurred, "Thank you Jalen, but I have reserved a celebratory first dance for Leo. There is a colloquial expression used in the 20th century United States that suggests one should 'dance with the one that you brung.' "

"Smartass," Jalen commented, and jerked her thumb at Data while cocking an eyebrow at Leo. "Well you guys have fun, and maybe you can squeeze me into your schedule later, huh?" She ran off to join some friends in a far corner as Leo told Data, "Hang on a minute… you can move around, really, but I'm gonna talk to the music programmer for a minute." Ever compliant, Data shifted from one foot to the other in time to the hard-edged techno-pulse music that was playing. By the time she returned several people were eying him a bit oddly.

"Glenn Miller, coming up."

Data looked concerned as Leo pulled him toward the dance floor. "I did not mean to offend your friend. Shall I find her and apologize?" Leo was shaking her head no, but he was looking over his shoulder for Jalen and didn't notice. "I sometimes forget that there are parameters for interaction that apply to those whose acquaintance I have already made, and those I have only just met. Do you suppose she was aware that certain of my appropriate social subroutines are still in development?"

They'd gotten to the middle of the dance floor, which had mostly cleared when the sharp-edged music faded. "Data, I have another 20th century colloquialism for you," she told him as she pulled him around to face her.

"What is that?"

"Shut up and dance."

As the opening bars of Moonlight Serenade flowed like honey out of the club's sound system, a light of recognition lit Data's face, and he took Leo in his arms in dance position and began to move them smoothly around the floor. That is, he tried to. Somehow Leo hadn't expected being required to _dance-_dance, as in Arthur Murray. She expected the usual holding each other and shuffling to the music that she'd always known as "slow dancing". After stepping on Data's feet two or three times it had become more of a vertical wrestling match than a dance. Data stopped them both and looked down at Leo in mild consternation. "It is the male's responsibility to lead, and the lady's place to follow the steps."

"Uh, I guess I never really learned that. I mean, I didn't know you could actually _dance_."

"I have augmented my social subroutines with a complete array of ballroom dance steps. If you wish, I will teach you." He led her slowly through a simple fox trot step, which after a few minutes she managed to force into her feet via her brain. A few of her fellow cadets were watching them with some curiosity, as one or two couples indulged in the shuffle-and-grope that never seemed to go out of style. Leo was beginning to think this had been a lousy idea… she felt like a true spaz.

"Data I'm sorry, I guess I'm not very good at the real thing."

"On the contrary, you have picked up the steps very quickly. Now simply follow me," he began to dance more smoothly again, and though she was keeping up somewhat better still Leo protested, "Really, you don't have to, we can just sit and talk…"

Data interjected patiently, "Leora?"

His use of her full name gave her pause. "Yeah?"

"Shut up and dance."

She managed to relax and follow as he quietly encouraged her now and then with directions like "Sidestep-sidestep, back slow-back slow, very good Leo, you learn very quickly. It took me much longer with Dr. Crusher's assistance." He held her with an ease and sureness that contrasted with his often tentative conversation. Here he was the teacher, she realized, and she was the one out of her element. It was nice in a way, to see how he could be when he wasn't measuring himself against the possible need to explain. His left hand was closed around her right. She liked the way his thumb felt pressed into her palm, his other hand warm in the small of her back to guide her. She also found she liked not wondering when he'd try and cop a feel. No matter how not-model-calibre she knew herself to be, plenty of guys would cop a feel from the ugliest woman alive if they had half a chance. By the time the last clarinet notes tapered off into silence, Leo was moving as gracefully with Data as if they'd been dance partners for years. Well a day or two, anyway.

She'd requested several recordings by Glenn Miller, assuming they'd sit down after one dance and simply enjoy the music. A surprising number of cadets and their guests had joined them on the dance floor, perhaps relieved to find some calmer respite from the hyper-excited music that was typically piped into the room. Leo stepped away from Data as Stormy Weather began, but he pulled her back into his arms saying, "Do not stop now. You must practice to master the dance." If she'd pressed him, he'd have told her though it had not been a long time since he had danced to Glenn Miller, dancing with a living partner was much more satisfying than doing so with a holodeck-created one. He was intrigued by the unpredictability of human movement, the challenges of compensation in balance and coordination that simply didn't exist when the woman in his arms was guaranteed digitally to match his every move because he had programmed her himself. And this was the first time he had partnered with a novice, which made the diversion even more enjoyable. In fact everything about this new acquaintance was thoroughly enjoyable. That he would be leaving the Academy when his seminar ended didn't occur to Data in any serious way; he was so much a part of the 24th century and technology itself that he considered the possibility of continued communication and connection to be a given regardless of geospatial proximity.

"Okay." Leo felt absurdly shy all of a sudden. Since they'd met she'd had the upper hand, if there'd been one to have, in terms of their personal interaction. Him teaching her the math logic was different, when he was sharing his knowledge for a practical purpose. He was doing this for _her_, to teach her something she could have fun with, and to celebrate her achievement. She'd been on her own for so long, even before coming here, she'd forgotten what it was like. She'd become accustomed to congenial parallel lines, and sensed Data was drawing her to a point of intersection. She wondered if he were aware of it, and what if anything it meant to him. What it meant to her was that she felt a niggling uneasiness, not wanting to get too attached to him when, after all, their unexpectedly converging paths would diverge again in two weeks. She cared much less about his being an android than she did his being a transient visitor here.

Their thoughts remained unspoken, and before long Leo's face was touching Data's shoulder, his cheek against her hair. This time when the song finished Leo insisted on finding a table. "I shouldn't have slammed that drink like I did," she admitted. "I'm a little spacey."

When they'd found a couple of empty seats by a corner table Data said, "I see you have found a source for alcoholic beverages, in addition to your other 21st century conventions."

Leo shushed him, looking around to see if anyone had heard. "Ssh, do you wanna get Jack busted? He and Boothby are a two-man speakeasy, and don't think that I'm the only member. No harm done, really, nobody over indulges. It's just that for me anyway I need a hard dose of real now and then to counteract the inescapable synthetics of this century." The animation left Data's expression. "Oh no, Data, no, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean _you_, I told you already I have a hard time remembering you're an android, didn't I?" She gripped his hand for emphasis, and he looked down at their hands where they joined at the center of the table.

"Do not be concerned," he told her, "I am aware of your meaning. Though it may be hard for you to believe, I, too, sometimes long for 'a dose of real'. But I do not know where to find it, or what I might do with it if I did."

She ducked her head to look him in the eye. "You're doing it already." His calm gaze rested on hers and it felt like he was looking straight into her. After a moment he touched the corner of her eye with a fingertip, as light as a butterfly's wing it seemed to Leo.

"You are tired. We have celebrated your success. Perhaps it is time for you to go home now."

Out of nowhere Leo was washed under a wave of sadness. "I would, if I just knew where it was." The pale face opposite hers displayed a perfect fusion of empathy and encouragement.

"You will make one, Leora Eileen, as I have."

Leo leaned forward enough to touch her forehead lightly to Data's. "Why oh why do I believe you, I don't even know you."

"Yes, you do." He didn't know why he said that, only that it seemed somehow appropriate. Leo sat up, and the moment dispelled in the returning throb of activity that surrounded them.

"Yeah let's call it a night."

As they walked to the transporter pad (still early enough to be operating thank god - Leo was too beat to walk all the way back to her quarters) Data noted waggishly, "Very well. It is a night."

"I told you, that's not humor," Leo returned flatly

"When you meet my friends, you may inform them of their error." Data's deadpan rejoinder was dispersed in the glitter of their dematerialization.


	6. Belonging

When they'd rematerialized in the lobby of her building, Leo told Data, "I'll be fine. You don't have to come up. You must have stuff to do for tomorrow's sessions."

"I will see you to your door. It is no trouble." He followed her into the turbolift and stood by as she keyed in the access code at her door.

"You know, I don't even know where you're staying."

"There is a block of rooms reserved in the guest building near the front gate."

"But that's over a mile from here," a deep chime sounded, "and the transporters just went down for the night."

"You forget, Leo, I can run 100 kilometres per hour."

"Oh, I suppose you can, can't you." She smacked her forehead, "Android, android. You'd think I could remember." Mildly alarmed, Data grasped her wrist to keep her from hitting herself again.

"You will injure yourself."

"Data, I…" and she didn't ask for permission this time before reaching up to kiss him.

Data sensed more connection than gratitude in this kiss, so he returned it in kind. Leo's heartbeat and respiration elevated slightly as he took her in his arms and she reached around his neck to hold on. Reading her responses as indicative of a growing if cautious affection, he tightened his embrace and deepened the kiss. Temperatures and textures, warm soft mouth, cool silky hair in his fingers, warm and strong where his arm held her around the waist. All of it somehow held more fascination for him because it was part of the whole being of a stranger who'd proven to be not much of a stranger at all over the course of a few extended conversations. Maybe it was because she was from another time, because she was lost herself and a stranger in the world by her very nature, like he was. She reached out to him, now and before, with no need to interpret and no fear of making "mistakes". So much like Tasha, who also had come to him of her own inspiration, and even when her first virally-driven rush of physical need had passed he had never once had to translate doubts into questions or progress reports. If a response was misdirected or a signal misread, there were no apologies and no regrets, there was only learning, and a sense of belonging that turned uncertainty from an obstacle to an opportunity. Though unable to feel or project human emotion in the accepted manner Data could fully experience _belonging_ because it was a condition and not an emotion. For reasons Data believed he would never understand, of all his friends Tasha had seemed to symbolize this "belonging", perhaps because she was the first to offer it with no need for explanation. Its presence, and absence, was keenly perceived by Data as the nearest true analog to human emotion he was capable of experiencing. Even when he was among his closest friends there was just a shadow of it lacking. That it had returned in the person of this impulsive time jumper was a brilliant surprise Data was not inclined to question.

Warm, Leo realized again, he was so warm and solid, but not hard at all. His mouth was soft, tasted a little sweet, and as he opened it to hers she didn't feel a heartbeat's (if he'd had one) hesitation. He was following her lead, she knew he could gauge every beat of every cell merely by touch; he was responding entirely to _her_ responses and not to advance any of the usual male agendas. Something was in him that spoke to her, that resonated as she'd told him, not in spite of his unique construction but _because_ of it. Utterly different in form and origin, they shared a similarity in substance that she'd never even expected from a fellow human. Making a life in this new place took up all of her effort, and she'd decided that easing the inner bruises from her "before" loss and the utter disorientation since her arrival would have to be left aside. But then Data showed up, an everyday sanctuary she'd resigned herself to doing without because she couldn't imagine it existed. The number twelve screamed in her brain, twelve days until lives – not even parallel – continued in their own directions. This world and time was all about distance, all about more places for anyone to go farther away than she ever had conceived of in her life. More shiny things to entice you, goals and possibilities she'd likewise never imagined, they pulled at her already and all she'd done was pass a goddamn exam, the stunning possibilities to be lived and learned and experienced spun her head. He'd told her she'd make a home for herself but already she knew the rules were different here, with all the galaxies to travel in you'd better keep your home with you, because then you'd always be where you belong no matter where you are. It wasn't right, it wasn't sensible, but this 6 foot assemblage of positronic brilliance threatened to feel so much like home she wanted to scream at the hideous unfairness of it. She'd left the whole idea of "home" behind and then it came back to her uninvited in the shape of a lonely (even if he thought he wasn't) android. And only long enough to remind her why she might have changed her mind in the woods that night if only she'd taken a little more time to think.

Two brains, one positronic and one organic, implausibly whirled their respective thoughts almost exactly at the same speed. It would be the first and last time such a marvel occurred. In only ten seconds both Data and Leo weighed the events of the past two days, gave them context, and considered both their existential and more esoteric impact. And as Data's possibilities reached into the future Leo's screeched to a halt at twelve days, and instead of clinging to the gentlest most inviting kiss she could remember she withdrew her mouth from his and stepped back.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have jumped you like that."

"Do not be sorry. It was a pleasant interaction."

"Yeah, but…" she trailed off. He waited for her to finish, but she didn't. When she saw him still waiting, Leo added lamely, "Nothing."

"It has been common in my experience when interacting with humans that the conjunction 'but' announces an additional thought. Therefore discontinuance of a sentence immediately following 'but' implies a thought not expressed. While it is true we have not been long acquainted," Leo found that to be ironic, considering the clinch they'd just shared, "I would like to make it plain that based upon even a brief demonstration of your personality and character that you may express any thoughts that arise as a result of our interaction. In fact, nothing you say can affect the future of that interaction." When Leo didn't reply except by an odd change of her facial expression, perhaps denoting discomfort, Data amended, "I assure you, it is the truth. I am incapable of lying or harboring a secret agenda."

"Sometimes I wish _you_ could forget you're an android," Leo confessed. "Okay, what was sucked back into my brain after 'but', is this: you're leaving for parts unknown in just twelve days. That being the case, this happy convergence of existences is pretty much an exercise in futility."

This was very puzzling. "Do you mean that our geographical distance from one another will inhibit the development of our friendship?"

"Pretty much." Struck by the absurdity of discussing such intimate matters in the hallway, Leo opened her door and beckoned, "well come in, no sense sharing it with the entire building."

Data looked up and down the hallway, seeing no one, but decided that silence was the best choice for the moment. When he entered the main room Leo was already slouched on the sofa, so he picked up on that as an indication he should join her. Upon doing so he ascertained his impression had been correct. No questions, no misunderstandings.

"Leo, you harbor the belief that friendship and interaction are a function of proximity, and are not possible if geographical distance is a factor."

"Uh-huh."

Well then, he thought, this was going to be easy. "You are new to this century. In your time, interpersonal connectiveness had barely begun to transcend physical contact. In this time, it is a natural part of interaction. Sub space messages, communications that are simultaneously visual and verbal, and even holographic interactions are possible that make distance and boundaries no barrier to interpersonal relationships."

She was beginning to understand, but couldn't entirely accept it as a reasonable substitute. "It's not the same."

"No," Data admitted, "it is not." He examined the dilemma for a moment, and a thought occurred to him. Not knowing if it made sense, he opted not to question it completely, following Geordi's frequent successful habit of "following a hunch".

"Do you still interact with your deceased friend Paul?"

Leo reacted physically to the question, stiffening and widening her eyes at the audacity. How _dare_ he? That was different, that was a connection nobody and nothing could break because she protected it in her heart and mind even after he was gone. That was… a very astute question.

"Yes." She didn't bother to explain the details, or the fact that she knew in a corporeal sense it was entirely one-sided. She knew instinctively she didn't need to explain anything.

"You are able to interact with your friend not because he is here with you, but because your understanding of each other, of your thoughts and beliefs, your memory of your interactions built a knowledge so complete that even now you know exactly what he would say to you, and how you would respond."

"Yes." She was unable to say another word. He was so completely right that it beggared the imagination.

"If that is true," and here Data's voice became gently persuasive, "how much easier might it be to cover a lesser distance, with no need to draw on your knowledge or imagination?"

Still she clung to the familiar. "But your life is so demanding, and mine isn't even started yet. How could either one of us possibly have time, possibly remember the importance of this?"

The Mona Data Smile… then, "One of us is not able to forget. So one of us will always be able to remind the other, in cases when life is particularly demanding."

Leo heaved a huge sigh and fell back against the sofa cushions. She was exhausted, confused, and very, very needing to believe everything he told her. "You can't be this anxious to get laid." Even as she said it she realized how ridiculous a statement it was.

"Laid… ah, yes. The male sexual imperative. No, Leo, I am not 'anxious to get laid'."

"I'm sorry…" she was terribly ashamed of having even thought of it.

"There is no need to be sorry. Humans make mistakes in verbalization. It is a fact of existence. You are, however, partly correct. I am 'anxious' to know you believe as I do that we may remain friends, and that our friendship may continue and develop as we do ourselves."

"But," and only sheer burnout lowered her inhibitions enough to allow her to say it, "what if I love you? What then?"

"If that occurs, on that day that you are able to tell me so, if you are able to tell me, I will tell you: I would love you if I could. Would that be enough? I do not wish to hurt you. I would never, if allowed to make the choice myself, hurt you."

Leo sat up, then just as suddenly doubled over with her head in her hands. "I can't think, Data, I can't. But I believe you. It's the best I can do right now." She felt his hand resting lightly on her back.

"To do the best that you can do will always be sufficient." Uncertain how to continue, Data leaned down and told Leo quietly, "My friend Tasha told me often, more is lost to fear than danger."

"Oh I hope she was right." Leo sat up and regarded Data as if he were a sudden apparition sent to enlighten her. She was so close to tears, without knowing why, she was hesitant to speak.

"Tell me," he said in the quiet gentle voice she already knew she didn't want to live without.

"Would you think I'm some sort of indecisive virgin slut if I asked you to stay? Just to be with me? I think I might sleep better." Liar, she knew if he left she'd be lying with her open eyes riveted on the dark ceiling, sleepless until sunrise, worrying, wondering, and probably coming up with the worst decision she could possibly make.

"I do not know whether or not you are a virgin, but your behavior has made it evident that you are not a 'slut'. Yes, I will stay."

She disappeared into the bedroom then, and was gone for such a long time that Data wondered if she had changed her mind, that he should leave. He rose and approached the bedroom door. "Leo?" he called softly, "Leo? Are you all right?" He poked his head in the door and saw that she had changed into tiger-striped pajamas and fallen asleep on the bed. He didn't know that, overcome, she'd lain down for "just a second" to clear her head. He approached the bed and leaned down, lifting her carefully in his arms so as not to wake her. He needn't have worried. He managed to pull down the covers on one side and slide her in, then covered her again. For a long time he stood looking down at her. She'd expressed the need for him to be with her. That could mean sitting on the sofa, or in the chair at the foot of the bed. After a few more moments' musing Data removed his boots and stretched out full length beside Leo, on top of the covers. Turning onto his side, he reached an arm across her waist and laid his head next to hers on the pillow.

"Sleep, now," he whispered, "I will be with you."

Though one of them was deeply asleep, and the other was destined for none at all, both minds were suddenly filled with a single thought.

Belonging.


	7. We'll always have Paris

In the twelve days that followed Leo managed to pry herself from the tendency to mentally draw an "x" on her imaginary calendar as each day passed. She continued with her studies, demanding as hell but now well within her capabilities even in an utterly new context. Data continued in his seminar sessions, often accessing the insights, gained through casual conversation with Leo, that could assist him or his team with various scenarios. Much to his surprise some of them, like the "sideways reasoning" idea, became default links in his positronic net in a very short time.

Most evenings Data would call on Leo at her quarters, as his sessions typically ended later than her classes. There had been no repetition of the events of the evening of her exam. There had been no awkwardness either, for that matter. Their kiss and Leo's concerns, and Data's sleep-only sleepover, were accepted as a natural part of the process. They fell into the habit of listening to music (sharing a vast breadth of tastes in common), strolling the campus or going to the Neutral Zone to dance and discuss their day's activities. If Data had been reminded of his friend Tasha, Leo realized that the speed with which this attachment was forming brought Paul to her mind. It was Paul who had told her, "It doesn't take long to figure out when you're stuck with someone for life. It doesn't happen often, but just try and fight it when it does."

A few days before he was to leave, Data found himself with an afternoon free of seminar sessions. He had not formed any particular social connections among the seminar attendees, and Leo would be in the classrooms until early evening. Left to his own devices, Data wandered the campus as he had during his tenure as a cadet. And as he had then, now he naturally gravitated to "Boothby World", and the gardens he so enjoyed in years past.

"Well I'll be damned," the old man pronounced as he saw Data approach. He got down from the ladder where he'd been pruning one of "his" trees, and put down his shears. "I'd say you've grown up, but you can't, can you?"

Data shook Boothby's hand. "Mr. Boothby, I could not leave the Academy without finding you and saying hello. You, and your grounds, are looking very well."

"I, and my grounds, are very well maintained thank you. The grounds by me, and myself by useful living and the odd shot."

"Of Jack?" Data inquired with what could best be described as a "positronic twinkle".

"Now who could have told you about my dark secret," Boothby mused as he beckoned Data to join him on one of the oak benches he'd made himself over the years.

"It is safe with me, sir. My new friend Leora Eileen O'Reilly, whom you know as 'Ollie', divulged it to me one night as we were celebrating her examination success."

Boothby chuckled under his breath. "I do know Ollie, I do indeed. And I know she's become rather more attached to you than she'd like." Boothby wasn't given to gossip, but then this wasn't some idly curious third party. "But thrn you know that."

"I do. And I must confess that I have become 'attached' to Leo as well, though I do not dislike it in the least. Leo is concerned that my departure will mark the end of our friendship. Even though she tells me she understands the dynamic of communication and relationships in the 24rthcentury, I fear she still clings to a set of learned assumptions that no longer apply."

"Well she has to cling to something, doesn't she? Everything she knew and was got left behind, and everything she's found is still beyond her grasp."

"I must disagree, Mr. Boothby. 'Everything she was' Leo has in fact brought here with her. If she had not, we would not have come to know each other. I would not have found such great assistance in her opinions and conversation, both for the seminar and my everyday existence living with humans. I believe I may have discovered the possibility of a rare friend in an unexpected place and all that she is, she has been prior to our first meeting."

Boothby realized he'd just heard the android equivalent of a testy comeback. "Well, well, Data it's nice to know that Leo isn't wasting her time getting worked up over someone that has no interest in knowing her."

"She has already told me that she knows that I want to know her, not know 'about' her." He paused for a moment. "Leo is getting 'worked up' over me?"

This made Boothby laugh out loud, as Data sounded for all the world like a first-year cadet with a crush on an upperclassman. "Let's just say she shares your beliefs about friendship, and leave it at that. I have to live here once you're gone, and she knows where to find me."

Data didn't quite know what he meant, but as was increasingly the case he could judge that no harm would be done by the question going unanswered. "That is reassuring, though she has made it clear to me already that she wishes to continue our acquaintance as I do. I do wish I could help her overcome her inherent doubts surrounding the concept of geospatial proximity and its potential effect on interpersonal relationships." He'd opted for "geographical" when discussing the matter with Leo; although it wasn't accurate in this context, he'd felt it wiser to use terminology she was accustomed to.

"I'm afraid the only cure for that will be common sense and experience. Sometimes you _do_ have to see it to believe it, especially when you've just been dumped three centuries into the future and find the only one worth making friends with is a positronic professional nomad."

"I must disagree with you again, Mr. Boothby."

"You've always had an annoying habit of doing that, Data, now that I think of it."

"Leo has made it very apparent that she considers you to be 'worth making friends with'. She cherishes your company and holds your opinions in high regard."

"Yeah, well, I get my work done twice as fast when she's around to hand me things while she explores the meaning of life." His expression made it clear that Leo's sentiment was returned in kind. Every year he met a few of the new ones who were different, not necessarily smarter but more questioning in their outlook. He could tell them a mile off, they often had a faraway look as they tried to figure out the world and their place in it. Data had had it. Picard, on the other hand, had been somewhat the opposite… he knew everything, and was always anxious to tell Boothby what new certainty he'd discovered or the latest way the imprecise approach of others had annoyed him. Oh well, he'd turned out pretty well all things considered. Where some people respected certainty, Boothby had never underestimated the value of doubt. No doubt, no learning, he'd often said, and if you weren't going to learn then why the hell were you at Starfleet Academy?

Data accessed his internal chronometer and acknowledged it was nearly 1800 hours. "Please excuse me, Mr. Boothby, but I am scheduled to meet Leo at her quarters. Tonight I am going to teach her the 20th century Earth dance known as 'swing'."

"There you go, isn't life a mystery wrapped in an enigma."

Data cocked his head, "Please clarify?"

"Think about it, Data. Ollie got shot forward three hundred years to have an android teach her a dance that was popular before she was born. It's good to see you Data. And don't give up on her, as friends go you could do a whole lot worse."

Data smiled the only smile he knew, deciding not to tell Boothby he knew this was a repetition of the advice he had given Leo. "Be well, Mr. Boothby. I hope we will meet again." He shook hands again as he rose from the bench and walked toward the part of the campus where Leo lived.

Boothby shook his head and laughed to himself as he gathered up his pruning tools to return to his workshop. "Nice kid," he muttered, "maybe Leo can shake some of that starch outta him."

Two days before Data's scheduled departure he informed Leo, "My crew mate Geordi will be piloting the shuttle that will return me to the Enterprise," she didn't get exactly where that would be, but it didn't really matter. "He will be flying in to the shuttle bays tomorrow morning, and will be staying overnight at the Academy before our return the following day. I would very much like to introduce you to him. Perhaps we can take him to the Neutral Zone. Like me, he enjoys music and is much better than I at socializing."

"Yikes, that puts us both on the sidelines, huh? I'd love to meet him. He's your best friend, isn't he?"

"Yes. It seems peculiar to be able to select one over the others, which would seem to require some type of emotional evaluation."

"Don't start, will you?"

"Forgive me. As you and others have observed in my presence, every friendship develops a character of its own. This would seem to allow for differentiation and even hierarchy, whether in the presence or absence of emotion."

"Close enough for jazz." She'd been pleased to learn, the first time she said it, that he was well aware of the expression. After all, he was also a jazz aficionado, though his instrument of choice was classical violin.

Against her more selfish instincts Leo really was glad that Data had suggested his friend join them on their last night out before his departure. Having him "all to herself" would change nothing, and was likely as not to trigger more of her own melancholy philosophizing than even she could stomach. And she truly was excited by the prospect of meeting someone new, someone she knew would probably be the kind of person she'd _like_ to meet because he was the kind of person that had engaged Data, who shared many of her ideas about what made people interesting to know. She'd agreed to meet Data and Geordi at the coffee shop near the club, wanting a few quiet moments at least to shake hands and exchange niceties in case the club was busy.

When Leo approached the table where the two obviously best-friends were seated, Geordi nearly knocked it over leaping to his feet. What _had_ they been talking about? Guy stuff, she imagined, even an android was basically a "guy". Data steadied the table with a disconcerted look at his friend.

"Leo, I would like to introduce my friend and crew mate Geordi LaForge. Geordi, this is Leora Eileen O'Reilly."

"Leo, hi, hey I'm really glad to meet you," Geordi shook her hand a little sheepishly.

"Hey, Geordi, likewise. No need to wreck the joint on my account."

Geordi's mortified expression was answered by a poke in the ribs from Data. "Smartass," he explained with a straight face.

When he saw Leo stifle a snicker Geordi commented, "Now how'd he manage to meet one of those?"

They sat down for a moment and the waitress approached. "Geordi, can I get you something? They make the best replicated excuse for coffee I've found since I got here."

"I'm fine, thanks. From what I hear you have your own stash of the real stuff."

Leo offered an innocent shrug. "Guess I know the right people."

"Hey, congratulations on passing the warp tech exam. That one's a bitch even for someone _born_ here."

"Speaking of knowing the right people…" Leo indicated Data. "Your crew mate here snatched me from the jaws of disaster."

"I have explained to Geordi how we met," Data informed her.

"Well I'll bet _your_ version lacks drama," Leo teased him, knowing he'd "process" it correctly.

"Are you kidding? He told me that your 'distress diminished precipitously' after he'd worked with you for an hour or so," Geordi volunteered with a grin, "and believe me for Data that's _high_ drama."

With an appreciative nod, Leo intoned, "Ooooh, in that case I take it back." She liked this guy already. If she'd thought that Data's colleagues gave him any "special" treatment she could see she was dead wrong.

Geordi was every bit as bright, fun, and unmercifully teasing as Leo hoped and expected he'd be. Having arrived at something of a profile of Data, the reinforcement of her conclusions by a third party who knew him so well was a secret relief. The fact that Data's first act had been to rescue her from disaster was something Leo was a bit concerned might get in the way of her good judgment.

Once at the club, which was pretty quiet, more talk occurred than dancing. Histories, adventures, aspirations were shared over synthehol (Geordi) and Jack (Leo). When a Miles Davis tune came on the sound system, Geordi sat up and took notice. "Where the hell did they find that?"

"Moi," Leo announced proudly, and Data volunteered, "Leo brought with her a large collection of digital data storage devices containing music of many periods. Her collection of classic jazz is most impressive."

"Yeah, the disks themselves are pretty useless here but being digital they can be transferred."

"You mean the captain of the Avalon let you return to earth to _pack_?" Geordi was incredulous.

"You gotta understand, I lived in a rural area, in the woods. No neighbors to see, in fact nobody but the fisher cats and raccoons would have noticed anyone come and go in the middle of the night. So I was permitted to go back to my house, with a security detail of course, and select exactly 45 kilos of personal possessions to bring with me. Ten of those were music, and the rest were books. _Real_ books, with pages and everything. And no, I _don't_ wanna donate them to the Academy's antiquities collection, thanks."

"You have forgotten, one pair of tiger striped pajamas," Data reminded her to Geordi's surprised laughter.

"Data, when did you get interested in ladies lingerie?" he demanded.

Leo hastily explained, "They're not what you'd call lingerie, Geordi, trust me." Suddenly sympathetic to Data's plight of being double-teamed all evening by friends far quicker on the draw than he was, she added, "Data was visiting one evening and I was very rude and changed into something more comfortable, then promptly fell asleep. He was a perfect gentleman, I assure you."

"He _might_ be the only one you ever meet around here," Geordi warned her.

"I've managed to take care of myself pretty well, thanks."

"Yeah, I guess you have to considering what you're up against. I don't know how well I'd do if you dumped me centuries in the future."

"Hey, can I try those on? I've been wondering about them all night," Leo indicated Geordi's visor. He'd explained its purpose and the subject had been abandoned.

"Well you're not going to see anything much. Like I said, they connect to my vision centers via special ports."

"Please? I won't break it or anything."

Geordi looked over at Data. "Is she always like this?"

He nodded gravely. "I am afraid so. Once she has determined a goal she is exceedingly persistent in pursuing it."

"I suppose passing warp tech from three hundred years in the past deserves a little something, here," Geordi carefully removed the visor and held it out to Leo, who took it gingerly by the edges and held it as if it were made of spun glass. It didn't fit like glasses, but she managed to set it on her face balanced on her nose. "So, how does it look?" she asked Data.

"Very… contemporary," he offered diplomatically as Leo handed the visor back to Geordi.

The campus-wide communications system chimed. "Commander Data, please report to the nearest subspace communications center to respond to a hail." Another chime, and the announcement was repeated.

"Excuse me," Data took his leave.

"So is this the cue for you to ask if my intentions are honorable?" Leo was only half kidding.

"He's a big boy, Leo, and it's not my turn to watch him."

"I'm sorry, that was plain tacky. But for real, you're his best friend. It must seem weird that he got focused on anyone so fast."

Geordi shook his head. "Actually you're wrong. It happens pretty frequently. Data's always noticing things in people that make him want to learn more, to know them better. It's the opposite that's usually true of other people though, not a whole lot of them return the interest. Not in the right way, anyway."

Leo just blinked at him, and he laughed.

"Maybe it's me, but you just looked exactly like Data when he's caught by surprise."

"Well I guess I can't grasp that Data would be seen as, I dunno, a geek or something. He's so bright, and interesting, yeah maybe he's a little stiff socially but who isn't sometimes?"

"Look, I can say this because I'm his best friend, but Data _is_ a geek. He's the genius kid that everyone wants to have help them with their homework, or be on their debating team, or talk about himself like he's a living science project." That he was expressing himself in 20th century idioms wasn't lost on her. "And all he wants when he finds someone who's interesting, who seems like they maybe have _something_ in common with someone who at first glance doesn't really have much 'in common' with anyone he lives or works with, he just wants to _know_ them. As people, to find out how those appealing aspects fit into the whole. Sure part of it is to learn how to accomplish that in himself, to seem more 'natural', but it's a small part. Data's nature sets him apart by default, so what he looks for most is common ground, something that can help him connect. What he gets, usually, is someone looking for information or entertainment. And when it comes to socializing, there are more than a few women who think of just one thing when they find out what he is."

Leo almost blushed. It's not that it hadn't occurred to her on some level, but more as an idle curiosity than anything else. And not because she was particularly noble; fact was, all other things being equal, getting laid would be at the bottom of her to-do list for some time to come. "Jesus, Geordi, that's nasty."

"Yeah, it is. Imagine meeting someone you wanna connect with socially and intellectually and yeah, in his own way, emotionally, and being seen as a life size sex toy. Or a walking tech library, or an interactive resource for all your computer problems."

"Or a tutor in warp tech," Leo added, a bit dispiritedly.

"Uh-uh, that was different. He came to _you_ to try to help, and from what he told me things just went on from there. Closest thing to natural since when he came to the Enterprise and met us. Except this time he wasn't assigned. Are you getting me?"

"Yeah. And if he's told you as much as he seems to have, you know I'm kind of in the same boat. I'm the curiosity, the antique, the ready resource for history and popular culture from years gone by. Though nobody's thought of me as a sex toy so far…" she had to add the last bit, she couldn't help it. Geordi laughed a bit self-consciously.

"Yeah well that was a little over the top I guess. Look, Leo, I just wanted you to know that whatever you have in mind, you just haven't responded so far like the usual 'tourists' in Data's life. He recognizes that too, and it makes him all the more serious about keeping you there no matter where it goes from here."

"He knows I'm a little funny about distance. But what have I got to compare it to? I mean it's not that I'm overcoming some trauma from the past, no abusive relationships or lying weasels to flash back about. But what I did have, like you have now, was a best friend, and you know exactly what I mean when I say it's like suddenly having a need filled you never knew you had. It comes on fast, and over time the roots grow miles deep, but once it's there you wonder how you ever lived without it. And when it's gone you can't imagine ever knowing that kind of connection again. It's not 'falling in love' even if it's just as unexpected. It's falling in _knowledge_, a complete and utter knowledge of each other that makes misunderstandings impossible and explanations unnecessary. And I had that for most of my life, and I lost it, and what I'm flashing back to if anything is what it felt like when I first figured out it was happening with Paul." She knew Data must have told him. "I never expected to find that the first time, and I don't expect to find it again. And I don't _want_ to find it in someone flying off to another galaxy when I'll probably wind up doing the same."

Geordi leaned forward and it seemed to Leo exactly like he was looking her straight in the eye, visor or no.

"And what would you say if I told you I think you already have, and no galaxy is gonna be far enough to stop it?"

She looked away, then at the table, and then in Geordi's "eyes". "I'd have to say I hope you're right."

He nodded, and patted her hand. "I'm the chief engineer. The day I'm not right the Federation flagship blows up."

In spite of the serious turn the conversation had taken, Leo burst out laughing. "I guess that's reassuring, to _somebody_." By then Data was returning to their table.

"Our rendezvous coordinates with the Enterprise have changed. I will discuss the details with you later," he told Geordi. Then to Leo, "Captain Picard sends his regards."

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Leo looked from Data to Geordi in astonishment. "Just when did I get so famous?"

Caught out, Geordi half-muttered, "Well, see, when I contacted Data to arrange my arrival he mentioned he'd made a new friend, and well, I guess I sort of let it slip out…"

"Geordi is a very good communicator of social information," Data explained, "he is the Enterprise's most reliable source of unofficial information the crew may find useful."

Fixing Geordi with a suspicious stare, Leo mused "Who knew they still had Town Criers in the 24th century?" Suddenly she noticed the chronometer on the wall over the bar. "Oh jeez, guys I'm sorry but the transporters shut down for the night in fifteen minutes, and it's a long walk back to my quarters. I gotta fly."

Geordi managed not to knock the table over as they all stood. "It was a real pleasure, Leo, and I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again." Before she could answer he gave her a meaningful smile. "And remember what happens when I'm not right."

With a laugh, Leo impulsively hugged him. "I'll keep it in mind. I'm glad to meet you too. Nice to know that some of us cling to the antiques like Miles Davis."

Data wore a perplexed expression as he walked Leo to the transporter room. "I do not understand… what 'happens' when Geordi is not right?"

"I'll let him tell you. Look what time are you guys taking off tomorrow?" Data smiled at her use of the 21st century term.

"We are scheduled for a shuttle bay departure at 0900." He hesitated a moment. "Will you be there to mark our departure?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

Data's brow furrowed slightly. "That would depend upon which species…" Leo silenced him with a smack on the arm.

"_Data!_"

"Oh. Smartass."

"Yeah, smartass. I'll be there."

The transporter engineer was waiting. "Shall I see you to your quarters?"

"Not tonight, do you mind? It's just… I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He nodded, understanding but not repeating the probable reasons for her decision. "May I 'kiss you goodnight'?" he asked.

Leo demonstrated rather than verbalized her answer, and after she shimmered away Data rejoined Geordi.

"What do you think, Geordi?" Data didn't want to suggest anything that his friend would be compelled either to agree or disagree with based on their friendship.

Geordi gripped Data's shoulder and gave it a shake. "I think you've met your match, Data, in fact I think both of you have. This could get ugly."

After a moment's consternation Data ventured, "Smartass?"

"Smartass. Now let's go get some sleep, I'm _beat_."

The next day at 0875 Leo stood with Geordi and Data in the cargo area next to the shuttle bay. She'd given them a box of cd's to be converted for use on the Enterprise in Ten Forward. "Can't have the hot spot of the Federation flagship playing lame music," she said. Geordi hugged her goodbye with a promise to meet again and told Data rather transparently, "I'll just go see if the shuttlecraft is good to go."

Momentarily distracted by his exit, Leo was brought back by the touch of Data's hand on her shoulder, and turned to face him.

"Hey. Well according to you I'm not supposed to say goodbye. It's just not done in the 24th century."

"It is not _necessary_," he corrected.

Oddly, the tears Leo expected she'd be fighting were nowhere in evidence. It seemed Data and Geordi had convinced her to "relinquish her outdated assumptions" after all. No longer wondering about _if_ she might see or hear from him again, Leo's only question was when. But she decided not to ask. Way too 21st century.

The kiss they shared had nothing of desperation or finality. It was sweet, soft, friendly. Maybe more, maybe later.

Wanting to lighten things a little, Leo cracked "Hey, we'll always have Paris." Data of course understood the reference; between listening to vintage music they'd also been watching vintage movies. "So tell me, what _do_ they say instead of goodbye in the 24th century."

Data leaned close to kiss her cheek and whispered in her ear, "Á bientôt."

The following day was a busy one for Leo, a meeting with her program advisor (wow, some university positions will never die, she thought) and classes in starship operations and organization and logistical elements of starship command. If the captains were like CEO's by god the ship operations were a world all their own. It was nearly 2000 hours when Leo staggered through the door to her quarters and dumped her various computer jump drives and digital study media on the table. She'd barely had time to get a glass of water when the computer chimed and announced: "Cadet Leora Eileen O'Reilly, please report to the nearest subspace communications center to respond to a hail."

Smiling to herself, she decided to ask. Just so she could hear it out loud.

"Computer, origin of subspace communication please?"

"Subspace communication originates from the USS Enterprise. More detail?"

She was halfway out the door already.

"No thanks, computer, tell him I'm on my way."


End file.
